to have been a happy home of instruction, but it was, alas! a
house of suffering. Reutter did not devote even ordinary care to
his pupil, and from casual lessons in musical theory he drifted
into complete neglect. Haydn afterwards declared that he had
never had more than two lessons in composition from Reutter, who
was, moreover, harsh and cruel and unfeeling, laughing at his
pupil's groping attempts, and chastising him on the slightest
pretext. It has been hinted that the Capellmeister was jealous of
his young charge--that he was "afraid of finding a rival in the
pupil." But this is highly improbable. Haydn had not as yet shown
any unusual gifts likely to excite the envy of his superior.
There is more probability in the other suggestion that Reutter
was piqued at not having been allowed by Haydn's father to
perpetuate the boy's fine voice by the ancient method of
emasculation. The point, in any case, is not of very much
importance. It is sufficient to observe that Reutter's name
survives mainly in virtue of the fact that he tempted Haydn to
Vienna with the promise of special instruction, and gave him
practically nothing of that, but a great deal of ill-usage.

Lessons at St Stephen's

Haydn was supposed to have lessons from two undistinguished
professors named Gegenbauer and Finsterbusch. But it all
amounted to very little. There was the regular drilling for
the church services, to be sure: solfeggi and psalms, psalms
and solfeggi--always apt to degenerate, under a pedant, into the
dreariest of mechanical routine. How many a sweet-voiced chorister,
even in our own days, reaches manhood with a love for music?
It needs music in his soul. Haydn's soul withstood the numbing